Dreams
by timelucked
Summary: Sousuke speaks of his dreams. The nightmares that have plagued his mind since the beginnings of his days, fighting in the streets of Helmijistan as a guerilla attacker. He's found meaning in life now, and that eases his burden each day. She is his reason.


Each day, the same dream.

I find myself running through the ruined streets of Helmajistan. I can only see my tattered shoes as I run. All around me are fallen victims of fatal misfires and the rampaging Uzi I know is clutched in my hands. They line the dirt streets like macabre road markers. There's one shadowing himself in a broken cranny in the old Baker's shop. I see a gleam of metal.

A crack and he's gone, crimson staining the adobe housing like a wash of red paint.

The bodies pile up even more. I feel sweat, I hear my panting, but I just can't see it for myself. I believe I'd be too afraid to see what was there, on my face.

My shoes transform with each step, becoming more distinguished. The shine of new combat boots take the place of worn sandals, quickly dirtying, drenched in soot and a dark moistness, as I splash through puddles I dare not register.

Everything is black. There's no movement. I hear a bubbling. All around, crimson, red, near black sea of blood surges slowly up. And up form the depths – is me. I rise from the surface, the life's liquid warm as if just spilled, scorching my subdued face. I'm immobile. I can do nothing but wait till I reach the surface. The nothingness is cool on my face as the blood slips down. I stare up at the blank darkness, floating as if the Mithril uniform I now have on weighs nothing. The pull of guilt weighs me down mentally. Thousands of hands rise up reaching for me, tearing at my clothes, disturbing the water into millions of lashing waves. They pull me down with hands with fingers clean off, decaying limbs, all bent on my destruction as I had done unto them. They drag me down. I try to fight – able to move again – I kick and writhe, push and punch. I scream which fill my mouth. I'm drowning in their anger. Their hatred is tearing me apart. I crush my eyes closed, feeling the pain of hundreds of defeated enemies. I'm forced deeper as a heavier weight is unloaded on top of me, crushing me.. It mixes with the blood. The taste of sorrow is on my tongue. Along with the copper, I can roll around my mouth salt. They're tears. I let out a cry as the saltiness fills my throat.

I stop fighting. I let them drag me to drown in their hate, I let the sorrow surge into me till I burst.

And then I'm gone.

The dream ends.

I wake up in a sweat – my sheets damp around me (on the nights where I feel sage enough to sleep on top of the cot and not below it)

With every bat of my eye, even if awake, I see that same vision.

But as of late... these dreams – nightmares? - of mine have changed.

I don't see myself at all, but I can feel the facial construction of my face. My muscles hurt, cheeks beginning to sore. It was a good pain. This is seen in my point of view. Entirely. Focus, looks left. Tree petals flowing in the breeze like an extension of beauty. Pink budding flowers lightly fall to the ground. It's sunny. Passing a bench. To my right is the same fenced-in view. I stare forward. There's a figure. My face hurts even more by this point – I seem unable to help it. The silhouette becomes less blurry. She's not facing me. Her turquoise skirt is blowing with the sudden breeze, her hair being gingerly swept up in this beautiful wave of ebony. Her hair shines in this light. Through the walkways Sakura trees, a patch of sun hits her at an angle just right, illuminating her physical features pleasingly. She raises a tender hand to brush back a stray tendril of that thick, lush hair. I'm only fifteen feet away from her now and I stop. I can see her perk up. She spins around and her face, it lights up more brightly than the sun. This throb hits me in the chest, as as hard as a splatter round with none of the pain.

That look... the most gorgeous I had ever seen. It's just her face working the same muscles as mine, and yet...

She goes up on the balls of her feet and jogs to me. She gives a little jump and lands into me – arms wrapping around my neck. It all feels so natural, so instinctual, like breathing to survive. Needing her to survive. I know it to be true. Every day before this had been spent existing. Butt now, capturing her waist in my hands so easily and pulling her close, I know what it is to live. At this point it's at a side view. I see my eyes closed with her against me – head bent to intake her sweet scent – but not out of the crushing blows of close familiarities; Anger, Hatred, and Sorrow. But out of the more-pressing happiness I feel in that moment.

You sent me on this mission because you wanted me to have a a taste of humanity 0 I understand that now. It was – please take no offense, Sir - by all accounts irrational.

Lieutenant Commander Kalinnin. Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity. Because of you, I was and am able to experience the very human emotion of... Love.

I was mulling any word you've said to me, and if the offer is still on the table...

I'd like for you to be more than my documented "foster-father"

I would like to be your son.

I hate that this is not in person... but I'm afraid that wouldn't happen in a long while.

Signed,

Sousky Seagal.


End file.
